Episode 106, Paving Stones
20 Sep 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Episode 106, Paving Stones
Lemmy’s Rock in the HIP 96456 system
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The figure stood motionless, flanked on all sides by guards, as Flora O’Neil, Raider of the Prime Spade faction, sneered. Her eyes narrowed with a predatory gleam, sizing up the source of her clan’s irritation.
“Who are you, and what’s your business here?” Flora demanded, her tone dripping with disdain.
The figure’s mirrored visor tilted slightly, the sandy hooded helmet obscuring any hint of expression beneath. When the response came, it was cold and mechanical, filtered through a voice modulator.
“Bai, wilt ty xos stairno.”
One of the guards stiffened, recognition flickering across his face, but Flora missed it, stepping forward with a sneer. “What was that... trash? I didn’t understand a word.”
The guard who had reacted eyed the figure with a mix of wariness and curiosity. “They said, ‘yes,’ and asked who are you... space dust.”
“Space dust?” Flora growled, her lips curling into a snarl as she leaned closer, eyes flashing with anger. “What the hell do you mean by... space dust?”
“Mam,” the guard who had recognized the language warned, his voice strained, “that’s not wise.”
“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t wise!” Flora snapped, her hand waving dismissively as she advanced. “I run this part of the rock, and I run you!” Her eyes flicked down, noticing the tactical skirt parting around the figure’s hips, revealing a utility belt bristling with tools of the trade—a plasma pistol, a brutal-looking knife, and more.
“Eramea itsu, edo isilik duzu,” the mechanical voice repeated, calm, almost bored.
Flora’s face twisted in rage. “What the hell are you saying? Speak clearly, or I’ll have your tongue ripped out!”
The guard stepped forward, placing a hand between Flora and the stranger, his eyes locking onto the figure’s visor with a strange mixture of fear and respect. “I never thought I’d hear that language again.”
Flora shot him a venomous glare, her expression a mask of fury. “Mind your place!”
The guard didn’t back down, his voice tense but steady. “They’re telling you to get out of their way, or...”
“Or what?” Flora spat, shoving him back, her voice rising with each word. “Or what?”
“Mam,” the guard said, his eyes never leaving the figure’s visor, “I remember meeting someone who spoke that language when I was a kid. Your damned arrogance is about to get us all killed.”
Flora’s hand lashed out, striking the guard across the face. She turned back to the figure, her eyes blazing with fury. “Get him!”
The words were barely out of her mouth when the figure moved, fluid and precise. The guards, well-trained but caught off guard by Flora’s sudden order, hesitated—a fatal mistake.
The plasma pistol was in the figure’s hand in a heartbeat, the barrel aimed squarely at the ground as it fired. A blinding flash erupted, sending a shockwave through the floor, knocking Flora and the guards back. Flora hit the ground hard, her head snapping back as the wind was driven from her lungs.
The figure stepped forward, each movement deliberate, their visor reflecting the chaotic scene. They stood over Flora, the pistol held loosely at their side, the knife still sheathed. There was no need for it.
“Erdu,” the mechanical voice said, colder now, the words hanging in the air like frost. “Now.”
The guard, the only one not sprawled on the floor, scrambled to his feet, eyes wide with something that looked very much like respect.
“Yes... sir,” he stammered, glancing between Flora and the figure, his hand trembling as he reached for his comms unit. “Everyone, stand down!”
Flora struggled to sit up, her face a mask of confusion and rage. “You... you can’t just—”
The figure leaned down, the visor inches from Flora’s face. The voice that came through the modulator was low, almost a whisper, but it carried an edge that cut through the noise like a blade.
“Space dust,” it said, each word enunciated with deadly precision. “That’s all you are. And if you don’t back off, I’ll scatter you across the stars.”
Flora’s eyes widened, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she stared up at the figure, the realization of just how precarious her situation was finally sinking in.
The figure straightened, turning away from her without another word, the guards parting to let them pass. The guard who had understood the language hesitated, then followed, leaving Flora on the floor, trembling with a mixture of fury and fear, the echoes of the confrontation still ringing in her ears.
The figure didn’t look back. There was no need. They had made their point.
“Zure hizkuntza hitz egiten duzu? You understand our language?” the figure asked, the voice modulator adding an eerie undertone as they walked down the dimly lit corridor, heading toward a local supplier.
The guard, still reeling from the confrontation, glanced sideways, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I understand a little. Heard it growing up. My clan traded with your people before... before they vanished. Where did you all go?”
“We did not vanish. We assimilated,” the figure replied, the mechanical quality of the voice both familiar and unsettling. “Yes, I speak common too. We are everywhere and nowhere.” A pause, then a shift in tone. “And right now, I need to resupply my ship.”
The guard nodded, his steps falling in line with the figures. “I can help with that. Suppliers around here aren’t too keen on outsiders, but I can smooth things over.”
The figure inclined their head slightly, acknowledging the offer. “That would be appreciated. Time is of the essence.”
As they continued down the corridor, the guard found himself glancing at the figure, curiosity mixing with a lingering unease. “Why come here, then? If you’re everywhere... why beyond the rim?”
The figure didn’t hesitate. “Because here, the past still lingers. There are debts to be settled and names that need to be remembered.”
The guard nodded slowly, understanding dawning on his face. “You’re here for more than just supplies, aren’t you?”
The figure didn’t answer immediately, the visor turning to scan the corridor ahead. “Sometimes, a message needs to be delivered in person. But that’s not your concern. Just help me get what I need.”
The guard swallowed, the weight of the unspoken words settling over him. “Understood. This way.”
They turned a corner, the murmur of voices and the clatter of machinery growing louder as they approached the supplier’s hub.
“And one more thing,” the figure said, the modulated voice dropping to a low, almost conspiratorial tone. “If you get in trouble because of this, reach out and I can offer you safety.”
The guard met the figure’s gaze—or at least tried to, through the reflective visor. “She is a low-level raider, recently promoted. They won’t care about her, but they may about you.”
The figure’s head tilted, the faintest hint of amusement in the posture. “I expect as much.”
“This faction isn’t big... out here, no one is. They are feisty though and pay well. I know better than to ask your name, but for the record, mine is Cameron Shannon.”
Behind the mirrored visor, a wicked smile appeared on Ryuko’s face. The road back received its first paving stones.
Zaria briefed Tara on Ryuko’s location and status, outlining what would be required of her once he returned and she joined him. Tzafrir kept Captain Akio in the loop, each of them tracking the progress of their wayward privateer, laying down the first stones of a road from the past to the present.
Ryuko’s voice crackled over the comms, a wry edge to his tone. “Don’t let Tzafrir get too comfortable. I want him on his toes.”
Tzafrir chuckled, leaning back as he glanced at the star map. “You know me too well, Ryuko. I’ll save the reclining for when you’re here to catch me napping.”
Tara raised an eyebrow, her synthetic gaze shifting between the two as Zaria smirked, adding her own quip. “Just make sure you bring back more than headaches, Ryuko. We’ve got enough of those to go around.”
Ryuko’s laugh echoed through the channel, sharp and confident. “Headaches? Don’t worry, Zaria. I’ll bring souvenirs.”
“Just be sure they don’t bite,” Tara retorted, a rare flicker of humor in her usually measured tone.
“They only bite if you don’t feed them first,” Ryuko replied, his grin almost audible. “Stay ready. This is just the beginning.”
The comms fell silent, but the momentum was clear. The road was being paved, and everyone knew their role.
Ryuko’s grin widened as he cut the connection, the thrill of the unfolding game humming through him. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was build paths—one stone at a time, even if it meant blowing up a few bridges along the way.